


Keep Yourself Alive

by Ineffable_Vulpix



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bad Cooking, Baking, Bickering, Changing Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Holy Water, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Nightmares, No Smut, No beta we fall like Crowley, Other, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineffable_Vulpix/pseuds/Ineffable_Vulpix
Summary: Years after the world didn't end, an angel and a demon settle into a cottage together, but some fears are too hard to leave behind.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. The Significance of a Tartan Thermos

_The bell rang above the door as Crowley let himself into the bookshop, in high spirits towing a small box in hand. “Angel!? I brought you some of those mince pies from that new bakery you liked!” he called with a grin, the mentioned angel stepping out from behind the bookshelves with a warm smile._

  
  
_“Oh Crowley,” he said softly “I'm glad you’re here, I’ve just finished preparing something for you as well.”_

_Crowley followed him to the back room, setting the box on an empty spot on one of the small tables before spinning on his heel to address the angel. His blood went cold as he took in the scene in front of him._

_Suddenly the cluttered walls of the bookshop faded, leaving the canopy and supports of the bandstand as their cover. The angel stood at the same spot he occupied just a day before the apocalypse, only this time he wore the same smile he usually greeted Crowley with, in his hands there was a tartan thermos._

_“You said once that you don’t need me in this very park, didn’t you?” Aziraphale said, keeping the same grin that was beginning to make Crowley feel sick “But we both know the opposite is true isn't it?”_

_“Angel...” Crowley said and began walking towards him, seeming unable to stop his feet. “angel, we’re free, you don’t-”_  


_“Yes, that’s rather the point isn't it?” the cup was removed and passed to Crowley's suddenly open hands, the cap being unscrewed as he spoke again “I told you, dear boy, it's over. I never even liked you.”_

_“Angel, Aziraphale, please...” The demon began to panic as his hands shook while the thermos was being tipped over the cup, “Remember, our own side?! We're on our own side!” he pleaded wincing as a few drops of holy water splashed free and he watched patches of flesh melt off of his hands._

_“Now, now, I'm only doing what's best for both of us.” The angel filled the cup to the brim before the thermos vanished, his smile only broadening as he looked up to Crowley “How could you have possibly thought an angel could love something as pathetic as you.” he said softly wiping a tear Crowley didn’t know he had shed with his thumb, the angels other hand encouraged the cup to be risen from the bottom, even in this moment gently tending to the demon._

_Left without another thought and the despair consuming him, Crowley drank, the last thing he saw was Aziraphale laughing soundlessly._

*****

The next thing Crowley registered was a sob and feeling as though his legs had been tied as he flailed wildly, pulling himself to a seated position. Slitted gold eyes slowly focused on a black duvet with a messy plush tartan blanket folded at the bottom.

_ Bed,  _ Crowley thought patting the cold space next to him, the blankets carefully folded aside as if someone had exited with care in order not to wake the other occupant. He freed his legs from the tangled sheets and rolled over, burying himself in the pillow that smelled of tea, vanilla and sandalwood cologne, grounding himself and trying to burn the image of the nightmare out of his mind, instead all he could think of is the thermos hidden in their wine cellar.

A few moments of relaxing gave him a clearer head, but without being the shake off the pit of terror in his stomach he decided it best to abandon the bed in favor of retrieving the plush maroon dressing gown he was gifted last Christmas ‘to keep you warm over those rather thin silk pajamas you favor’ as the angel had told him with pursed lips. A larger light blue dressing gown was neatly folded next to it on a wingback armchair, indicating Aziraphale had already dressed for the day.

As Crowley exited the bedroom, he took note of the sound of Beethoven on the gramophone he never quite convinced Aziraphale to update, it was underscored by alternatively irregular humming with periodic huffs.

Downstairs in the kitchen of a cottage shared by an angel and a demon, the former was bustling about with an assortment of ingredients and utensils scattered about. Fresh rosemary and thyme from the garden sat drying on a fresh dishtowel while hardly an inch of the islands counter remained untouched by flour, Aziraphale’s apron and arms receiving similar treatment as he finished kneading the dough.

Crowley leaned against the archway, folding his arms and watching Aziraphale let a small smile play on his lips as he glanced out of the corner of his eye. “I would have thought you would have given up lurking in your retirement.” he commented with laughter in his voice. 

Crowley crossed the room without thinking and snaked his arms around the soft torso, cuddling close with his head resting on the  angel's shoulder. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked with warmth in his voice before turning to get a good look at him. The demon winced as a hand rested on his jaw, thumb brushing his cheekbone not unlike his dream, only this time Crowley placed his own hand over it and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Did you have a nightmare again, my dearest?” the angel said barely above a whisper.

“’s nothing” Crowley mumbled gathering himself and stalking to the cellar as Aziraphale tutted.

“ Its before noon Crowley, I really think you could use some coffee before raiding the wine collection!” He scolded but continued working, quickly covering the dough with a fresh towel to let it rise.

Crowley glanced back once but pointedly ignored his companion and began rummaging through their stock, determination began to set into a cold panic as he searched through the shelves checking if it had been misplaced. He finally stopped when a shadow from the doorway crept into view “Where is it?” he growled lowly.

Aziraphale fidgeted and wrung his hands nervously in front of him “I'm sure I don’t know what you mean,” he said not even flinching when the straps of his apron were grabbed but shot back “I fail to see why you need the water Crowley!”

  
“Aziraphale.” Crowley warned tightening his grip as the angel braced himself against his arms for balance, not getting a further response Crowley hissed the angels name once more.

“I...” The angel began, looking apologetic but lacking fear, knowing Crowley would never hurt him despite the anger the demon knew he was giving off “I got rid of it” he said softly and stumbled as he was let go, glancing to see his partner straighten up and jaw go rigid.   


  
“You got rid of it.”

  
“Indeed.”

“And if demons had attacked?”

“Well, other than a few choice actions on your pa-”   


  
“Angel.”

Aziraphale paused, knowing he was being petulant and reached his hand out to grip Crowley’s in his, letting the comfort of contact wash over him for a moment before finally taking a shuddering breath and resolved himself “I rather think I would like to discuss this over something stronger than wine.”


	2. I won't let anything take you away from me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale struggles with knowing the means to his demons destruction is sitting in plain sight and takes matters into his own hands.

Crowley rolled his eyes and growled “come on Angel, we already agreed, put the bloody thing in one of the slots so we can pick a wine and forget about it!” Aziraphale held the thermos close and worried at it, looking ready to argue again before the demon threatened to approach.

“Oh, Crowley don’t rush me, I just want to be sure its safely tucked away...” The angel said and chose a spot fairly close to the floor in the corner before quickly choosing a bottle of 1963 Chateau Montrose and joining the demon, being met at the doorway with a chaste kiss.

“Insurance, remember?” Crowley said softly, snaking an arm around his waist. “Fast or not,  Im not going anywhere without you, not anymore.” Aziraphale nodded softly pressing a kiss to the demon's jaw and handing him the wine, comforting himself with the memory that Crowley truly did safely keep it as a defense measure for half a century. 

******

It wasn’t a month later when Aziraphale got his first scare. 

Crowley had worn a fetching ankle length black dress with a plunge neckline, accompanied by a maroon leather blazer and matching strapped stilettos, “and here I thought ‘The Southern Pansy’ didn’t seduce women?” she began smiling against his lips but gasped as the angel's hand wound in her shoulder length hair, exposing her neck.

“Seduce? You talk as if you didn’t know that dress wasn’t a temptation itself.” Aziraphale was quick to take advantage of her exposed collarbone, hunger gave way to a moment of tenderness as he pulled away to look into amber eyes “My dearest one, you must know that I want you in every way.” he said.

“Old sap.” Crowley accused but grinned as she was pushed against the rack, stumbling a little when her heel caught and cracked one of the old wooden planks. Under normal circumstances Aziraphale would have been perturbed but given he was currently otherwise occupied; he paid it no mind and supported the demon's weight between his own and an empty span on the rack. He continued his ministrations on her neck until catching sight of a bit of tartan too close to a slender ankle for him to disregard, freezing immediately.

In one sweeping motion he spun Crowley around to put himself between her and the dreaded object. Crowley moved to protest but spotted what Aziraphale had fixated on and squeezed his arm “It's alright angel.” she said softly.

“...W-why don’t you wait for me upstairs? I'll be up in a jiffy when I find a better place for it” Aziraphale said with a forced smile and Crowley obeyed with a put out sigh, clearly not wanting to press the issue at the moment.

Aziraphale considered throwing it out then, but they had talked about it and agreed that the cellar was close enough to the living area to be retrievable if needed. Insurance, he reminded himself before quickly repositioning the thermos on a high shelf next to the door. Satisfied it was out of the way he went to finish what they had started.

*****

Aziraphale had taken a liking to dozing a few hours at night. To be more accurate what he really enjoyed was the intimacy of waking next to messy red hair and light snoring, but still, he was beginning to catch on it may not have been the waste of time he deemed it before.

What Aziraphale couldn’t have imagined was how real the dreams would feel. After a particularly gruesome vision involving a burning cottage and 4 Archangels tilting a thermos over a crouched black clad figure, he woke in a panic with his hand patting cold sheets, seeking the comfort of the thin frame of his demon. Finding himself alone he wiped teary eyes with the back of his hand, trying to force himself into a more coherent state.

Consciousness led to reason, and it dawned on him that the smell of smoke had not left his senses. Without a second thought he flung the covers off of himself and hurried to follow it.

He quickly padded down the stairs, coming to a stop in the hall, the scene in the kitchen forced Aziraphale put a hand over his mouth knowing any sound he was about to make would be met with fury.

Behind the counter, an extremely put out demon glared at Aziraphale, wordlessly warning him against making a comment.

“And...what precisely were we making?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but let a small giggle out and Crowley hissed out something that sounded like eggs, though could more accurately be called scrambled tar.   


“Look, the recipe said 6 minutes for soft!”

“....did that happen to mention boiled as opposed to deep frying on a stove set to the hottest it could be?” Aziraphale asked having a hard time hiding his amusement making Crowley groan, snapping away the mess before taking off the apron he was wearing and throwing it at Aziraphale. He grumbled as he made his way to the wine cellar. Crowley flitted through the shelves quickly making the angel flinch as he watched him scan the top shelves, the contents of the cellar plaguing him each time the demon entered.    


“Come on then Gordon Ramsey, you show off your talents and  Ill keep the mimosas topped up.” Crowley found a bottle of champagne and jerked his head towards him with a toothy grin. Aziraphale resigned himself with a sigh, he would write it off as exasperation but the amusement and fondness that crept into his breath was hard to ignore.

“Now Crowley, I don’t know what this Mr. Go-” Aziraphale didn’t get to delve further into his rant as Crowley had a rather effective way to ensure his mouth had another task to attend to.

*****   


“I don’t see what the bloody problem is!? Just miracle the damned thing together!” Crowley's defensiveness was turning to anger now as he made his way through the kitchen.   


“You know full well it's not the same, would it honestly be so terrible to just be quieter once a millennium?” The angel huffed, he knew this was petty, but Crowley had rather rudely barged in and startled him just as he was trimming the leather on a new binding “I'm going to have to start over and that wa-” The angel went pale as he watched Crowley scan the cellar before hastily picking a few bottles out from the top near the door.   


“Finished then?” Crowley hissed making his way to the back door before giving an exaggerated bow “I'll be in the greenhouse then while you enjoy your demon free cottage, Ill pop in to dust you off when I get the geraniums to behave.” he said promptly turning on his heel and slamming the door.

Aziraphale let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and crossed to the door, placing his forehead softly against it and whispered “I don’t want any part of my life to be demon free, Crowley.” he said staying there a moment.

Crowley wasn’t cautious enough, that was an easy and provable observation. Gentle and compassionate when it counted, when it came to Aziraphale in particular, but rarely careful for himself. Whether it involved barreling into the library to make announcements, or storming into a church in a fit of heroics, the demon did not take proper time to observe his surroundings.

Aziraphale has imagined it dozens of times over the past few months. Crowley absentmindedly pulling a bottle out and catching the lip of the thermos, or supporting his weight on the wrong slot and having it break, both ending in the thermos cracking on the floor and splashing onto the demon, leaving behind nothing but a pile of black clothes and Aziraphale’s grief.   


  
Somehow, what Aziraphale found easiest of all to picture is himself, left alone in a seaside cottage with his books and cocoa. No loud inappropriate remarks on the newest show on the  telly , no more burnt attempts at breakfast or too fast car rides on a whim. No more complaints about the neighbor's kids learning some unorthodox gardening tricks along with a vocabulary to go with them, or a dress chosen with the intent to make the angels blood boil at lingering gazes in a way that just might have him doing something about it later. No more mischievous smiles and barking laughter as he scolded after he was playfully seized unaware, or stepping on each other's feet as a jaunty tune played on the gramophone.

No, Aziraphale would have a library with shelves full of romances he no longer saw himself in, a kettle full of the tart cherry tea the demon despised the smell of that now tasted like regret, and a peaceful cottage where passing villagers would never know that the love once seeping into every crack and crevice in the brick walls had dissolved in an instant.

No, the water had to go.

*****

Aziraphale kissed the lightly freckled shoulder peeking out from the covers. “Crowley?” he asked before shifting closer, waiting for a reply.

Crowley scooted close, pressing his back flush with the  angel's soft torso, remaining silent a moment before sighing and pulling the hand that settled on his waist around him, lacing their fingers together “that was a stupid fight.” he  admitted.

  


Aziraphale felt a wave of guilt and considered confessing there was now an empty  pure white thermos miraculously sitting on the shelf of a thrift shop a few towns over, the means to the demon's destruction and the angel's nightmares out of reach. Instead, he opted for placing a kiss against fiery red locks “yes, it rather was...” he said then added softly “But I wouldn’t mind 6000 more if it means having as many years of this”   


Crowley hummed in agreement and shifted to get more comfortable “me too angel.” he said, letting the night settle over them and drifting to sleep.

Aziraphale stayed silent relishing in slight rise and fall against his chest before inhaling deeply, “Crowley?” he whispered knowing he would not receive a response and continued “You don’t need it anymore you know?” he stroked a finger over the winding tattoo on his cheek.

“I would fight the entire armies of heaven and hell if it meant keeping you safe.” The angel finished with a kiss just behind Crowley’s ear before settling to drift off himself “I won't let anything take you away from me.” he promised before he fell into a peaceful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter we are back in the present. This took a lot longer than I thought but I feel like my writing is improving slightly at least.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and look forward to finishing this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope your enjoying this so far! Let me know what you think in the comments! 
> 
> the length may change a bit but I have a rough idea of how I want the rest to go.


End file.
